


Not Myself

by Raicho



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Choking, Come Shot, Daddy Kink, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:32:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicho/pseuds/Raicho
Summary: “It’s like I’m not myself.”The conversation played through Lance’s mind on repeat as a large hand gripped around his neck. Smudged patches of purple and blue already decorated his flesh like an obedient pet’s collar, and now fresh bruises blossomed beneath the insensitive pressure of cold fingertips to join tainted canvas of his throat. Lance’s lips parted like petals as he noiselessly gasped, mind partially numb and eyes half-lidded and unfocused as he watched his assault unfold in real time.Or... Lance will do anything to get therealShiro to surface.





	Not Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Established Shiro/Lance. AU post 05x06 (Shiro/Kuron are the same person?). Dub-Con. Unbeta'd.  
> I'll be revisiting this at a later time for clean up...

_“It’s like I’m not myself.”_

The conversation played through Lance’s mind on repeat as a large hand gripped around his neck. Smudged patches of purple and blue already decorated his flesh like an obedient pet’s collar, and now fresh bruises blossomed beneath the insensitive pressure of cold fingertips to the join tainted canvas of his throat. Lance’s lips parted like petals as he noiselessly gasped, mind partially numb and eyes half-lidded and unfocused as he watched his assault unfold in real time.

            The deafening echo of joined bodies rang in his ears as Lance tried distracting himself with counting the seconds until he could breathe again. His thighs quivered with the strain of his unnatural position, legs swung over his partner’s broad shoulders and ankles crossed as he was unceremoniously impaled over and over again. The restraints tying his wrists to the bed’s headboard chaffed against his skin with every unwanted jostle, causing Lance to quietly snivel with discomfort.

            As soon as the fingers loosened around his neck, Lance pulled away from the contact, panting for air while teardrops gathered in the corners of his pretty, blue eyes. “Shiro,” Lance whispered, his voice shaky from fear and disuse, “you’re hurting me.”

            Shiro was always rough now. Ever since he returned from captivity, he’d changed… He used to be gentle and loving with Lance, but now what they had between them was frantic and violent. One-sided. Shiro had become _someone else_. But Lance knew how to fix him from time to time; he could get the real Shiro to shine through after he gave himself over, tempting the beast into slumber so that it relinquished its hold on the captive soul trapped inside.

            Walking through their bedroom was like tiptoeing through a graveyard, their shameful secrets buried deep beneath the soiled sheets of their altar. Nothing here seemed sacred anymore; it was only an empty chamber, stripped of love to be used for their ribald coupling. But still, Lance would come every night like a faithful acolyte, hoping to find Shiro once more—hoping to _keep_ him for good. He would do anything for even just a glimpse of the real Shiro. _His_ Shiro.

            Lance tried not to shy away as a sly, toothy grin stretched over Shiro’s lips. “Shh, Baby Blue,” Shiro’s voice teased, “Daddy’s taking care of you now.”

            Lance had to remind himself, _This wasn’t his Shiro. Not yet._

            Intent eyes of glowing amethyst settled their gaze on Lance’s trembling bottom lip before trailing down his throat and chest, stopping to stare at the labored rise and fall of Lance’s breast. Shiro—no, _other_ Shiro—let out a graveled chuckle before leaning forward to nibble at the hardened nub of Lance’s dusky nipple. Lance whimpered at the sensation, his slender limbs squirming in place as Shiro pressed closer, tongue flicking over the perky nub. Shiro’s mouth ventured lower to Lance’s stomach, his sharp teeth biting into the tanned, baby-soft flesh with careless tenacity.

            Lance was left teetering between pain and pleasure, his senses unsure between what was right and wrong. His length eagerly bobbed between his legs, bouncing dark and heavy each time Shiro pushed into him harder, faster. Sweat and drops of precum collected along the defined lines of his stomach muscles, and his eyes had begun rolling with the temptation of delirium. If Lance closed his eyes he could pretend that he was being loved.

            “Don’t leave me now, Blue.” Shiro grunted, slapping a hand across Lance’s disheveled expression. He shook Lance, demanding his unyielding attention as his thrusts became harsh and more sporadic in pace; the grand finale was near and Shiro needed his audience to applaud with resounding _oohs_ and _aahhs_.

            Lance snapped back into the moment, acutely aware of the metallic fingers digging into his hips and the fat cock immobilizing his struggle. Shiro watched him with amusement, eyes glinting with the smug satisfaction of holding Lance to the bed like a pinned butterfly. Lance opened his mouth to beg for release, but was quickly silenced once Shiro crowded into his space and forced him into a heated kiss. Eyes open, Shiro’s stare was intense and predatory as he battled for complete dominance over Lance.

            _This will end soon_ ; Lance consoled himself as he gave himself over to the skilled ministrations of Shiro’s mouth, making sure to play his role with perfect timing.

            Folded in half, the pressure and heat of Shiro’s body helped to work Lance into a state of loaded sensation, his skin felt too tight and his core felt too full all at once. Lance released a faint chanting of _ah, ah, ah_ during the few times his lips were left unoccupied, throwing his head back and silently praying for release.

            “Almost there…”

            His toes curled and his eyes scrunched tightly shut as Shiro slammed into Lance with a particularly violent thrust. Lance’s vision jolted into shades of unrecognizable color and he howled as he spilled his load, hot spurts of creamy, white cum coating his face like a porn star. “Fuck!”

            “Yeah, you like that.” Shiro purred as he quickened pace, watching Lance’s eyelashes flutter open and close with specks of cum sticking to the ends. “Tell me how much you love it.”

            “So much... I love it so much.” Lance lied.

            Shiro sunk himself into Lance one final time before reaching his climax. It was like a burst of fireworks on the fourth of July—brief and spectacular. _Nostalgic_ , Lance thought. Shiro filled Lance full with his seed, stuffed to the brim, debauched and moaning with need.

            “Always so good for me…” The anger eased from Shiro’s form like melting ice in springtime, and the eerie glow faded from his eyes, returning them to their familiar shade of warm steel. His face flushed a dark pink, blending into the shades of scar tissue that marked the bridge of Shiro’s nose. Silver strands of hair fell into his face as Shiro slumped with exhaustion, repositioning and pulling Lance with him to lie on their sides to bask in post-coital euphoria. Shiro hummed his satisfaction against the edge of Lance’s jawline before wrapping him in his strong arms and pulling Lance close to his chest.

            The air shifted and Lance sensed a quiet change in atmosphere. He lifted his gaze, catching a brief glimpse of Shiro’s softened expression before the older paladin spoke, “Lance…”

            Like taboo, the _other_ Shiro never called Lance by his name.

            “I love you, Lance.” Shiro whispered before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

            Lance felt himself become weightless as he let out a sigh of relief.

            Lance whispered into the night, “I love you, too.”


End file.
